When You Aim For The Queen

When you aim for the Queen, you best not miss…

Not with a typo.

Not with a tantrum.

Not with a timeline that

doesn’t add up.

You came swinging with

lies and false claims—

while I stood holding the

truth in full color.

When you aim for the Queen, you best not miss…

Not with your voice raised

louder than your integrity.

Not with four

word texts,

grammar assassinations,

and no logic—

in response to paragraphs.

Not when you throw out

disrespectful jabs you

couldn’t even spell right,

before disappearing.

You thought your volume

could overpower my clarity.

But I was calm,

correct,

and unshaken.

When you aim for the Queen, you best not miss…

Not when someone else

drafted your script.

Designed your mask.

Branded your illusion.

And wrote your

acceptance speech.

You cashed checks off my

brilliance and thought I

wouldn’t notice the theft.

When you aim for the Queen, you best not miss…

Not when you hang up every

time you hear the truth.

Not when you scream to

distract from the silence of

your credibility.

You think you’re leading—

but you’ve never once

listened.

I would never follow you

into emptiness.

You’re lost—

and can’t even lead

yourself to therapy.

When you aim for the Queen, you best not miss…

Not when you can’t handle

correction, but you’re out

here claiming mentorship

and forcing censorship—

on everyone but yourself.

Not when your empire is

built on evasion and ego—

With no structure,

on borrowed bones,

you’re spineless frame

could never hold up.

When you aim for the Queen, you best not miss…

Because I saw every

document.

Every forgery.

The lies you live and the

secrets you keep.

The Queen unmasked you.

And I have the receipts—

not just for the lies you

hide while selling fake

vibes,

but for the honesty you

stole.

When you aim for the Queen, you best not miss…

Because the Queen is

done playing chess while

you play checkers.

I’m clearing the whole damn

board.

Checkmate, bitch.